Am I Really Gonna Let You Go?
by WildFire864
Summary: This is the sequel to Add A Little German To It. Bill is in the same condition he was at the end of AALGTI, but he is still a big part of Sesha's life and they story.
1. The Pills Help, Really!

Sesha held her books close to her chest as she climbed the stairs at her high school. Senior year basically stunk.

"Hey, SESHA!" Nadia Richardson yelled from the end of the hallway.

"Hi," Sesha managed to fake a smile.

"So, how's it going?" Nadia had quickly turned into one of Sesha's best friends since the incident turned into one of Sesha's best friends since the incident when Bill was killed two years prior. -She still hadn't forgotten or recovered.

"It's alright, I guess," Sesha replied half-heartedly.

"What's wrong? You seem sad."

"Just thinking," Sesha shrugged her shoulders.

"About what?"

"Who?-Actually. Bill Kaulitz, a singer."

"Oh?" Nadia raised her eyebrows, suggesting that Sesha and this guy were together.

"It's not like that. I mean, it was, but," Sesha shook her head, choking back tears, "he got killed in a car accident. I was, actually, uh, with him."

"How come you've never talked about him?"

"It makes me feel bad? I don't really know."

"Oh!" Nadia exclaimed, "from Tokio Hotel? You and him-? Oh, wow."

Nadia attempted to hide the face that she had talked some pretty serious trash about him.

"Yeah, and he was pretty much the coolest person I'd ever met in my existence," she hugged her books again.

Nadia heard Sesha sniffle, she was crying.

"Did you love him?"

"Yeah, I did. And it's my fault he's dead," Sesha wiped her face, trying to hide the tears.

"What do you mean your fault?"

"If I had never went to that concert he would still be alive," she shook her head in disbelief.

"Do you want a hug?" Nadia offered.

Sesha shook her head," no. I've got to go. Journalism and Miss Nelson will butcher me if I'm tardy again."

"Alright, well. See you later."

"Alright."

Sesha made her way to the girl's bathroom. She realized that she hadn't even talked about Bill since the accident. She didn't even go to his funeral. She hadn't talked to Gustav or Georg, not even Tom. Was Scotti even okay? Sesha watched her reflection while she carefully reapplied her eyeliner. She also realized- she hadn't cried since he died.

"You know, I really miss you," Sesha announced solemnly, "and I don't know if you can hear me, I have no clue what happens after you die. I'm glad I went to that stupid concert. I'm glad Elesea drug me there. -I have your jacket. You can come back and get it-if you want. I'd miss it though. I mean the way it smells, anyway." She glanced at her feet and felt fresh tears in her eye, "who am I kidding? You're never coming back. Hey, maybe I should get with Gustav or something. Or maybe I'm just supposed to be alone."

Sesha reached into her bag, grabbing the bottle of pills that lay on the bottom. If her parents knew she was on drugs, they'd flip. It wasn't like the pills were a problem, they made her feel better. She began to cry again, imagining the conversation she and Bill would have if he knew.

"_How are you?" She would put her arms around his neck, trying to hold the medicine still in her pocket._

"_It's all good," the accent wouldn't be so weird anymore and he would've taken up some of her slang terms._

"_Sesha, we need to talk." Oh no! He knew! _

"_What?" It would be alright. She would have it under control. Lie. No, she couldn't lie to him._

"_I know you're on drugs." He wouldn't be mad…yet, "I want you to give them to me." _

"_No," she would do what she did best, yell at him, and jerk away from him._

"_Sesha, you're killing yourself!"_

"_No! I'm not! Leave me ALONE!"_

"_Sesha, please." _

"_Shut up! God, you make me so mad." _

"_Is that you or the medication talking?" he would ask. She wouldn't be able to respond, "I thought so." His smile would be fake and he would be thoroughly disappointed in her. _

Sesha opened the bottle and put two pills in her mouth. Or was it three? She couldn't focus. This was all Bill's fault. If he hadn't died, she would be fine. He went and died, and she was a mess. It was all his fault. He died. She was a mess because of him.


	2. Flashbacks Kill Her

Sesha pulled her knees to her chest in her fourth period class. Usually, this class was something she looked forward to for a good laugh or two, but today was dissimilar.

"Are you alright?" Palmer sat in the open seat next to Sesha, "turn that frown upside-down!"

"That's okay," she forced her eyes open, the pills were kicking in, "I mean, no.

I-uhm-I'm alright."

"Matt," Palmer called to the figure entering the room, "Sesha's upset."

"Aww, hon. What's the matter? Tell me all about it," Matt sat on Sesha's lap. She could smell him.

"Nothing," she spoke quietly and managed to return his hug.

"Don't lie to me, love."

Why Matt used terms of endearment to Sesha even though he had a girlfriend escaped Sesha. Whatever, though. That was just Matt.

"No, Matt, I'm okay," Sesha insisted.

"Come on, baby," he tried again.

"Matt! I said I was fine!" Sesha shoved Matt back to a standing position.

"What's going on with you?" Matt asked.

"Nuh-thing!" Sesha yelled, "God! How many times do I have to say it?"

"Sesha," Palmer tried as well.

"Stop pressing me!" Sesha felt the tears.

Sesha felt Matt wrap his arms all the way around her and pull her close, she slid to the ground in a struggle to get away from him.

"Let me go!" She shrieked.

"I know you're on drugs," he whispered in her ear, the same way Bill used to. Only nowhere close.

Her whole body froze with anticipation and he continued to speak, "I won't tell anybody as long as you give them to me."

"No," she shoved him away, "you're lying."

Everything happened in less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Sesha was now sitting on the blue-gray carpet that had a dull feeling to it.

"Look, I just want to help you," Matt explained.

"I don't want your help," Sesha refused.

"What's going on?" the teacher had stepped in one the scene.

"She's having an anxiety attack. Can I take her in the hall? Maybe I can calm her down or something," Matt questioned.

"Yeah. I'll call a doctor."

No, don't call a doctor. She should be fine," Matt helped Sesha stand. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was scared, "it'll all be okay."

"Sesha, you can go ahead. Matt will be out in a minute," the teacher sighed. Sesha nodded and exited the room into the hallway.

Her whole body shook as Sesha ambled to a comfortable corner in the hall. Lucky for her, her class was close to a corner, so she didn't have to go far and make Matt look for her. The tears in her eyes began to fall slowly, and she inhaled deeply. Half of what had happened was an act to get people to leave her alone, but the other half was due to the medication.

"_Fine, then. I'll just stand outside your car, in the rain. Freezing." She watched him lean against the exterior of her car. His hair was flat and his eyeliner was running. He didn't seem to care._

"_Can I have a jump?" Why did she ask such a retarded question? Why would Bill Kaulitz have any freaking clue what a jump was? _

Sesha threw her head backwards, clashing with the wall. Bill was the best thing that had ever happened to her and he was dead. It was all her fault.

_"Who's annoying?" It was really amazing that this was the first conversation they had ever had._

_"You!" Wow, she really was a jerk._

_"Oh, really?"_

She began to hyperventilate.

_"Sesha, do me a favor. -Let me hold you?" Her stomach hit the floor. _

_"Let you hold me?"_

"Hey, Sesha," Matt was in the hallway. He sat beside her.

"Hi," her voice was quiet. She felt bad for yelling at Matt, but it wasn't like she could help it, "sorry for-."

"It's alright. You were pretty upset in there. Do you want to talk about it?" he interrupted, trying as hard as he could to understand her pain and how she felt.

"No," she shook her head, "I'm alright."

"You're not alright. Talk to me, hon," he said playfully and put his arm around her. She smiled.

"Hon...?" he was pressing again.

"I'll be okay," she insisted, not really being honest, "I just want to go home."

"I can drive you, if you want," he offered.

"The school isn't going to let you drive me home," she rolled her eyes, "I'll just walk."

"No, you just had a breakdown, you won't walk," his voice was firm and it was apparent that he wasn't playing around anymore.

"I'll be fine, Matt," she tried. She was thoroughly flattered that Matt cared about her enough to drive her home, but if she said she'd be fine, then she'd be fine, "I promise."

"Sesha, please. Just let me do this. I'll feel better and you can be home. I won't stay or anything. Just, let me drive you."

She nodded hesitantly, "okay."


	3. He Drove Her Home, Too

Sesha watched the trees pass out the window as Matt drove slowly down the cracked, concrete road, "what was his name?"

"Huh?" she alerted herself, the drugs usually gave her a funny feeling after they had lost their kick.

"The one who did this to you?"

"He didn't do anything. He died, it wasn't like he could help it, Matt. It's all my fault anyway."

"What was his name, Sesha?"

"His name was Bill," the long, navy blue sleeves on her wrist were wet from tears. She was wearing the same sweater that he had used because his clothes were soaked from rainwater. The same day he half-way broke her heart beyond repair. She didn't matter? Pfft.

"Hmm," Matt nodded.

A twinge of sadness yanked at the strings connected to her heart. She missed him. -Bad.

"So," he began, "do you want to listen to a C.D.? I've got Nirvana, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix. Or if you want you can put in one of yours. I know you carry them in your bag sometime, just incase."

"No, thank you, Matt. I'm alright," she lied. Truthfully, talking, or even thinking, about Bill ripped her happy emotions to shreads and left her nothing but sadness, depression, and anger. That was most likely why she kept the talking to a minimum.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's really no big deal. I mean, Blink 182 and Fall Out Boy aren't really my thing, but if you want to, I can put up," he was trying so hard, it was almost cute.

"Matt, listen. I know you're trying to make me feel better and all, but really, honestly, completely 100 percent true, I'll be okay. It's not like I haven't dealt with death before this," Sesha lied. Truth was, she had dealt with death, but she had gotten over it within a couple months. It had been a couple years and she still had to fight the tears on a hourly basis. She had royally messed up he life with those pills and Bill wasn't there to help her deal with it.

"Are you sure?"

Sesha noticed that Matt had taken a completely out of the way route to her house. There was no hiding that he was trying to get her to talk, no matter how hard he had to try. The pellots on her face turned cold. Why did she miss him so badly? It wasn't like she couldn't find someone else. ---But she couldn't. Not like him.

"I'm sure," she announced, after a long pause of nothing but rain pelting the hood of the trash-y, metal car, "you need a new paint job."

"What?" he smiled.

"Your car, the red is turning gray. I don't think that it's supposed to be that way."

"Really? -Because I thought it was looking pretty great."

"Not os much. I think you should either peel off all the red or...re-paint it."

Sesha tried to hide her shakiness. The high of her pills-whatever they were called- didn't last long, and she had taken another one while Matt was starting the car, but it was _just _starting to have any affect on her. Her eyes began to burn.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" Matt noticed that she was acting strange.

"Matt, I'm fine," she insisted, "I just miss him is all."

"Alright," he gave up. Obviously, she didn't want to talk.

The last few minutes of the car ride was spent in pure silence. Awkward, painful, deafeaning silence. "D-Do you want to come in for a few minutes?" she asked as the car rolled to a stop in front of her house.

"No, I should probably get back for 5th," he reluctantly denied her offer.

"Well, I'll see you around then," she murmured, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the car. She crossed her arms under her chest and watched him drive away. It was obvious enough that she had hurt him severely. God, why was she such a loser?

_The little, white flakes on his hair melted quickly. That was the thing about first snows, they didn't really stay snow once they hit the ground. Or Bill for that matter. _

_"My hair's going to get all wet," he complained._

_"Shut up, Bill. It's just snow," Sesha commanded. She could see the breath curl around her face._

_"Yeah, but it's the first snow. Which means, technically, it's still rain. Because all it does is melt."_

_Ah, so she wasn't the only one who noticed, "don't whine about it. Snow is happy."_

_"Why are you such a girl?"_

_"Why are you?" _

It kind of stunk that the first snow of two years later reminded her of him. It wasn't like there was really anything that _didn't _remind her of him. All she had to was sniff and she could smell him. She saw him everyplace. Everything that was said, he had said it or at least something similar. Walking toward the door, she saw a stick lying on the ground. Kicking it softly, she decided that that stick was her new best friend. She would do everything with that stupid, little, brown, dead stick. Maybe she could have a stick war with her little sister. They could pretend they were lightsabers. Or something along those lines. Attempts to get her mind off of Bill, that was all this nonsense was. Failing attempts. She would never forget him, that much was a given, but could she recover? Probably not. -She pushed all of the stupid-ness out of her mind and ambled into her empty, dark, cold house.


	4. His Brother's Really Annoying

"What are you doing here?" Sesha dropped her house key to the floor at the person standing in front of her face.

"I haven't seen you in two years. I just figured I should see how you were doing," Tom said nervously. Standing in the same room with his dead brother's girlfriend wasn't exactly the answer to the 'Where do you see yourself...?' question he had answered earlier in life.

"I'm fine," Sesha said coldly. Tom wasn't the first person she wasn't to see. It just brought back all the memories and made her realize even more that what had happened wasn't her imagination.

"How can you be fine? Have you talked to _any_one about it?" he stepped closer to her.

"I have."

"How many people?"

"Two," she dropped her bag and headed toward her room, Tom following helplessly.

"Have you cried?"

"Of course I've cried. What are you? Some kind of idiot?" she was becoming angry. Why did everyone decide they wanted to mess with her today...all at once. There was Nadia, Matt, Palmer, and now Tom was following her around like he was a lost puppy, "I just cried today."

"You don't look like you're fine. You look like you're on drugs," he raised his voice at her.

A cold, hard knot formed in Tom's throat when Sesha turned around, eyeing him suspiciously. "Oh my, God. You are on drugs. --Aren't you?" He dreaded the answer, though she didn't respond, "Sesha, don't do this to yourself. What would Bill think?"

"Do you honestly think I haven't asked myself that, Tom?!" Sesha screamed, "do you honestly think that every single time I put one of those little, white pills in my mouth I don't think about what Bill would think? He'd be disappointed, I know, but guess what? --Bill's dead. There's really nothing he can do about it. Is there?"

Tom stepped back, giving Sesha the satisfaction of knowing her words had impacted him. -No response, "I didn't think so. So why don't you just get back to your stupid, little, worthless band and leave me alone."

"There's no band, Sesha. Georg moved, Gustav's living here in the U.S., and I sold all of my guitars. Tokio Hotel's done," Tom announced. Sesha ran her fist over her eyes. Her face was numb to the tears stinging her cheeks.

"Good, you guys are nothing without Bill anyway," she whispered.

"I know you loved him, but-," Tom began.

"No, I didn't. I didn't love him," she interrupted.

"BUT...that doesn't mean you have to take your anger out on me. I haven't done anything to you."

"I don't care what you've done, Tom," Sesha clicked play on her computer.

"Who is this?" Tom was trying desperately to understand why Sesha wouldn't just talk to him.

"A band," she replied.

"Who?"

"3OH!3," she murmured.

He listened closely to the lyrics, only able to understand the four lines that made up the chorus and a few chunks before.

_Go ahead ... burn...down  
I'm drunk...everyone else  
...devil town  
They won't let me turn around,  
...one last look at my baby,  
Well, she's still around.  
Well, she's still around.  
Well, she's still around.  
Well, she's still around._

"Sounds kind of depressing," he noted.

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of depressed," she stated solemnly.

"I can stick around, if you want," he offered. Apparently, she was in need of someone to care. -And since she wasn't living with her parents anymore, they couldn't stop her.

"Why would I want that?" she kicked a shirt across the floor and into her baby blue dirty clothes hamper.

"Because you need help. I know this isn't what Bill would've wanted," he glanced at her open closet. Black, black, black, with the occasional touch of white or orange.

"I don't _care_...what Bill would've wanted. Bill...is...dead. And there's nothing you, or I, or anyone else can do to change that, Tom," Sesha was trying not to cry, but she was also failing...miserably.


	5. Withdraws Hurt

Sesha sat in frustration on the edge of her bed. Why was Tom being so nice to her when all she did was scream at him? Hmm...this seemed familiar. "I can stay over," Tom offered, "we can...I don't know...play Sorry or something. I don't care."

"No, that's probably not a good idea," she was anxious for him to leave the room. She needed more pills, this was a really hard day.

"Well, I'm not leaving, because I know what's going to happen. I'll leave and then you'll sit here having a pity party and popping those pills in your face. You don't medicate perfection, Sesha," Tom yelled.

"What are you talking about?" Sesha looked at her feet.

"I said you're perfect just the way you are and you don't need those pills to change you. Give them to me," he commanded.

"No," she shook her head, feeling her face become wet again.

"Fine! Do you want me to find them?" Tom yelled, and began to shuffle through her bag.

"They're not in there. You won't find them," she held her left thumb in her right hand, trying to hide the bottle in her pocket.

"Tell me where they are, Sesha!" Tom commanded, screaming.

Her eyes focused on him, tear-covered and red. They burned intensely and she was fighting falling asleep on the spot, "I need them, Tom." Her voice was dwindled to a whisper and her whole body weakened. She wanted so badly to just pass out.

"Sesha," he knelt in front of her and grabbed her knees, "you don't need that medicine. You need help. Unless you want me to take you to the hospital, I suggest you give me the drugs and let me take care of it. Or else you and the police are going to have some issues."

Sesha sighed and shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out the bottle, handing to him reluctantly. He placed them gently into the pocket of his over sized pants and held her against him. She was shaking and she probably couldn't even tell, "you're shaking."

"I didn't notice," she replied, placing her forehead against his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"I said...I was...fine," she breathed between her words. Tom felt sorry for her. She was in a state that wouldn't be easy to recover from. He had experience with drugs considering he had been high once or twice. However, it was nothing like what Sesha was doing.

"I know you miss him, but this isn't the answer."

"I know," she whined.

"He wouldn't be happy about this."

"I know," the irritation in her voice was coming out.

"He would've wanted you to be healthy."

"I know!" she snapped.

Tom decided that that was enough nagging her.

"Tom, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Could you _not _lecture me right now and just hold me?"

Sesha's statement wasn't a flirting type of thing. That's what she needed. She needed to be held. She had been living in this tiny apartment all by herself for almost five months now and not one person had been there except for her and her parents. Maybe Nadia once or twice and Matt in the front yard driving her home from school after her freak breakdown in fourth period. Tom didn't speak, he just did as he was asked, hoping she'd fall asleep, as it was obvious that the medicine kept her awake and the thoughts of her dead boyfriend weren't exactly a comfort thing. She continued to shake in spurts, being completely still for sets of almost five minutes then shivering uncontrollably for sets of almost thirty seconds. Then, she began to sweat. But she was cold. How could she sweat when she was cold? This didn't make any sense! She let small whimpers escape from her lips and sink into his black shirt. He smelled so different from Bill it was ridiculous. -She missed Bill's smell. Tom knew what was happening to Sesha. She was in the early stages of withdraws.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" Tom rested his chin on the top of Sesha's head. He was trying his hardest to keep her warm and under control.

"N-no," she stammered, "thank you, th-though."

"Are you sure? I know you like all those sappy movies, so I brought some along," he spoke softly, attempting not to upset her or make her angry in any way, shape, or form.

"It's okay, I said," she replied, not really angry, just tired and hurting.

"Alright," Tom whispered.

She could feel his breath hit the top of her head. It was warm. She heard his heart pounding against his chest in her left ear. Her head then began to throb and she began to shake again.


	6. She Wouldn't Have Said It Then

Sesha felt her face turn wet with tears, "T-Tom." Her words were slurred and her eyes hurt.

"Yeah?" Tom was being quiet. Startling her wouldn't be very appropriate.

"Why did he go and leave me?" Death wasn't one of her strong suits and she hadn't yet fully accepted that he was gone.

"It wasn't like he could help it, Sesha," he could feel her arms quivering.

"I know, but he promised," her voice broke.

Tom felt sorry for Sesha. She had lost her first love...and so far, her only love, "he pinky promised."

"I know he did. You can't really stop...death," Tom had trouble getting the last word out. He had also taken Bill's death hard, but he was over it, "besides, Bill would want you to be happy. He wouldn't want you to be taking drugs and he wouldn't want you to still be upset." Sesha felt her eyes flutter closed, she remebered the day that he died. How cold and hard her insides were. How she felt like she had no purpose to continue existing. She wanted so badly to die, just stop living right then and there. Nothing was worth it. Tom heard thw whispers escaping her lips.

"I sit here in front of your goofy photograph and recognize again how beautiful you are," she was singing. How did she know that song? Of all songs to be singing...it was that one, "oh, please don't laugh now."

Tom stomach was doing flips. He felt so bad for her. No one deserved to be this upset two years after someone died. She should've recovered. She should be fine now. She shouldn't still be hurting.

"It's not your fault, Sesha," Tom whispered, feeling her muscles tense up, "you didn't do anything. It's not your fault he's gone. It's not your fault." He repeated the words into her hair, hoping maybe the sobbing would cease. ...It didn't.

"It's is my fault, Tom. If I hadn't gone...he would still be here," pathetic whimper.

"But he wouldn't have known you. He wouldn't have been as happy as he was."

"But he would be alive."

"You would still hate him."

"But he would be alive."

"You would still be calling him an annoying dufus."

"But he would be alive."

"But you wouldn't care."

"I never hated him, Tom. I didn't know him. You can't hate someone you didn't know," she wiped the tears with her fists.

"You wouldn't have said that before you knew him," his arms loosened around her.

"I know," she said quietly. Her voice broke with words.


	7. He's Something Like That

Gustav approached the tall block of wood cautiously. What if she wasn't there? What if she killed herself or something? In spite of his thoughts, he rapped lightly on the door. Tom pulled it open. The words ready in Gustav's throat froze, "Tom?"

"Hi," Tom replied nervously, "what are you doing here?"

"I hadn't seen Sesha in a while and I figured I'd check up on her. How is she?"

"As good as you can be when you lost the person you care about most," Tom stepped aside so Gustav could enter.

"Yeah. I understand," Gustav had always been the best of the four Germans at English. He spoke it most fluently, but didn't speak often...in English _or _German, "where is she?"

"She just fell asleep. I laid her down on the couch in the back room," Tom nodded his head toward the room in the back. Gustav glanced to the figured breathing heavily in the back room.

"She's a mess," Gustav stated, noticing the make-up smears on her cheeks and the tangles in her hair, and kneeling next to her.

"She's addicted to some kind of drug. I don't know what it is. There's no tag on it," Tom eyed the bottle that he had in his hands.

Gustav paused, taking in Tom's facial expressions, "how are you, Tom?"

"I'm fine. Kind of bored, but fine," Tom yawned.

"Bored now? Or bored with life?"

"Both."

Gustav nodded, "it's a shame that Tokio Hotel was shot down."

Tom felt anger boil in him, "what were we going to do? We can't really replace Bill!"

"I know Tom...I know. I'm just saying that it would be cool to jam sometime, you know. Me, you and Georg."

"You and Georg still talk?" Tom eyed him suspiciously.

"No, but I can get ahold of him. It's not that difficult."

Tom thought about it. Him and they guys playing together just wouldn't feel right with out the attention-hogging-front-man that was Bill. He shook his head, "I'm just not ready, Gus."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's really nothing."

"Gustav, I haven't even listened to a recording of ours since Bill died. I don't think I'm ready to rekindle the band."

Gustav nodded, "alright."

Sesha sighed from the couch, "Bill." Tom's heart fell to his stomach, then his stomach hit the floor. Her whole body was shaking, so he pulled a blanket from her ankles to her chin. Maybe she was cold, "please don't go," she murmured. Helpless whimpers. Tom looked up as another series of knocks came over the door.

"Gus, will you get that?"

Gustav started to the door and pulled it open. A boy about 18 with fair skin and shoulder length, black, wavy hair stood in front of him.

"Hello?" Gustav said.

"Hi, I'm Matt. I was coming to check on Sesha," his blue eyes were water-y, "is she here?"

"She's in the back room, sleeping. Are you her...boyfriend?"

"Something like that," Matt glanced over Gustav's shoulder at Sesha, who Tom was attempting to calm down, "can I come in?"

Gustav nodded and let Matt pass him.


	8. Anxiety Attacks and Flash Backs

"Sesha," Tom shook her gently, attempting to wake her up, "Sesha."

"What?" she murmured, scooting closer to him.

"You have someone here," he moved a chunk of hair from her face to behind her ear.

"Who is it?" her voice was soft.

"It's Matt," Matt announced, slowly ambling closer toward her.

"Oh, hi," she stood up and rubbed her eyes. Matt noticed that she was still wearing her pink and white striped shirt that she had had on all day, but she had changed out of her jeans and into a pair of baggy, navy blue sweats, "what's up?"

"I was coming to check on you. How are you?" Matt swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine," she ran her fingers through her hair, which was in disarray from her nightmare.

"You don't look fine," he announced, "do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, thanks. Tom's staying here with me," she forced a crooked smile. A half-hearted, choked-out, crooked smile.

"Oh," he stammered, "o-okay."

Sesha instantly revisited the day at the hospital.

_"Now tell me you love me."_

_"--I love you."_

_"Mean it."_

_"I love you."_

_"Now kiss me," he whispered._

_She did. She shook heavily, but she did anyway._

Her fake smile dropped.

_"Bill, I really do love you," Sesha felt the tears coming on again._

_"Then swear you won't forget me."_

_"I swear."_

She felt her body begin to shake and the salty water in her eyes distorted the image of Matt, Tom, Gustav, and the back room. The sound of flat-lining tickled her ear drums.

"What is that?" her voice shook.

"What is what?" Matt questioned.

"That beeping, he's flat-lining," she felt the screams in her voice.

"Bill! No! Bring him back!"

Matt grabbed her gently and brought her thrashing body close to him, "you're going to be okay." He spoke in gentle whispers.

"Bring him _back_!" the fresh tears in her eyes spilled over her cheeks.

"Call an ambulance," Matt demanded to whoever was listening, "she needs help."


	9. Recovery?

Sesha pulled her eyes open.

"Hi," Matt was the only one in the room with her.

"Hey," her voice broke.

"How are you feeling?"

"Aside from the needle shoved into my hand and the throbbing headache, fine. What happened?" her throat burned when she spoke.

"You had an anxiety attack again. Tom called an ambulance, then his mom called. She wanted him to go back to Germany for a few weeks. He tried to fight her, but she insisted," Matt explained.

"Where's-?" she began.

"Gustav went to pick up some food. Neither of us have eaten today."

"What time is it?"

"Two in the morning. You've been sedated for about five hours. No biggie."

"You didn't eat lunch at school?"

"No, I took you home. I was worried about you after that, so I just drove around for a while," he said, his face turning a light shade of pink.

"Oh," she managed to speak above a whisper.

"He should be back soon though," Matt said quickly, trying to fill the silence, "do you want to talk about it? It might help."

"Uhm...I, well. I want to, but I don't want to freak out again."

"Maybe talking will help."

"I don't know."

"It's okay," he reached for her hand, "I won't think you're a freak or anything."

"I really don't think that it's a good idea," she stammered, gripping his fingers tightly.

"Hey," he whispered as gently as possible, "it's okay."

"I just don't understand," she began to cry steadily.

"Understand what?" his thumb met her cheek and he slowly pushed aside a tear.

"Any of this. It's stupid. I don't know why I'm still upset. It was two years ago, Matt. Why am I still crying about it?"

"Well, you did love him," Matt whispered, the words tearing at the pulsing muscle in his chest. She didn't reply.

"I've got food," Gustav announced upon entering the room.

"Thanks, dude," Matt quickly released Sesha's hand and stood up.

"Thanks Matt. You're a pretty cool guy, you know?" Sesha sniffled.


End file.
